


Happy Birthday, Robert Sugden.

by withoutwords



Series: Robron Tumblr Fics. [3]
Category: Emmerdale
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 19:29:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7374487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withoutwords/pseuds/withoutwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It stopped being about the simple joys. About food, balloons, the barefoot romp through the backyard with Andy on his tail.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Birthday, Robert Sugden.

**Author's Note:**

> written for the 'happy birthday robert sugden' ficathon.

He got a ninja turtle for his fifth birthday, the orange one with a pizza spinning on his hand. He got a chess set a few years later, and a kite the year after that, and it wasn’t that he wanted much. Just this thing, and that, and it was enough – enough for a kid who used old milk crates for chairs.

It stopped being about the simple joys. About food, balloons, the barefoot romp through the backyard with Andy on his tail. It stopped meaning anything, really, outside of his mistakes and his dad’s betrayals and his mum’s death; outside the constant nagging pressure _I’m getting older and no closer to the man I want to be._

The first year he left the village he had some guy on his knees, said “It’s my birthday,” like the guy needed any incentive. Another year he had a stray cat come through his window, and ignored a mate’s text so he could sit and watch _Con Air_ with the cat on his feet. Vic called, a lot later, and cried to him about mum, and it was okay.

Vic made a lot of it okay.

With Chrissie, his birthdays became something new again. Lavish dinners and expensive gifts and endless validation. He loved her for that, maybe still does a little, but it was always too heavy. Always too much. He’d pry the plane tickets from her hands, cancel the reservations, peel her clothes off and take her to bed. He’d say “I just want you,” and mean every word of it, but also mean, “I just don’t want to think about me.”

This year Aaron’s holding a cupcake and it’s  11:10pm .

Adam’s grumbling as he goes back to bed and Robert’s still trying to get his pants back on, trying to put it all together. It was his birthday – still is technically – and it was okay, but Aaron had forgotten. Aaron had kissed him hello at the pub, raced off to take Liv to school, shouted about having a meeting out of town, left his phone in the back room with a flat battery.

“I’m so sorry, Robert,” he says sheepishly, stepping further into the room and making that face at him. Robert’s so helpless when it comes to that face, and he smiles, despite himself.

“It’s fine.”

“It’s _not_ ,” Aaron says vehemently, like that’s offensive, for Robert to excuse him. “I just got caught up with Liv, and I didn’t – God, and you planned that trip.” 

“We’ll go another time, don’t worry,” 

“Please, just,” Aaron looks at the cupcake like it’s the most pathetic thing he’s even seen, flailing about with it until it lands in Robert’s hand. It has yellow frosting and rainbow sprinkles and the nicest thing about it is that Aaron held back from eating any of it himself.

“Thanks,” Robert says quietly, and then he’s being yanked forward and Aaron’s pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Robert’s free hand lands softly at the nape of his neck, nipping a little at Aaron, tasting his last pint.

“I’m so sorry, fuck,” he mutters hotly in to Robert’s neck. “You’ve been amazing, been there for me, and I can’t even remember your birthday.”

“You’ll make it up to me.”

“I _will_. Mum’ll have Liv, we can take off – we can do whatever you want.”

“Whatever?” Robert pulls back a bit to grin at him, feels that flush through his skin when Aaron smiles back. He thinks he remembers each one, these days, etched around every bad line that man drew across him. “Hmm. When I was nine they wouldn’t let me go on the _Helter Skelter_.”

“Git.”

“You said _anything_.”

Aaron kisses him again, gently, the tip of his nose playing at Robert’s cheek. He asks, quietly, “So, what d’you do today?” and they’re edging back towards the couch, feet kicking. 

“Well, Vic made me breakfast,” Robert tells him, falling into the cushions. Aaron follows, legs tangled a little, huddled with their faces close and their voices low. There’s just the few lamps on, but they cast enough light, enough that Robert can see Aaron. Can be seen.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Adam poured me coffee.”

“Wow,” Aaron pulls a mockingly suprised face, taking the cupcake and pulling at the paper. “That’s more than I get.”

Their chatter babbles softly, and Aaron picks at the cake, and Robert thinks it’s not a bad place to start his thirtieth year. Not just being with the man he loves, not just being truly happy – but being Robert Sugden.

At last.


End file.
